


if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

by zeta_leonis



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: First Time, I watched it again for the fourth time yesterday and I cried, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, kinda cutesy, so I needed to get this out of my sistem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 21:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeta_leonis/pseuds/zeta_leonis
Summary: They don’t know how they ended like this. One minute, they were whispering as loud as they could about the last meeting, voices ringing with excitement, high on the buzzing feeling of breaking the rules and coming together to, if for naught but a few hours, truly live; the next minute, they were kissing, Neil’s hands coming up to Todd’s face to cup his cheeks as Todd’s gripped onto his shoulders, his sweater, his clothes bunched up in his sweaty fists as they tried not to make too much noise whilst they breathed each other in, over and over.





	if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

They don’t know how they ended like this. One minute, they were whispering as loud as they could about the last meeting, voices ringing with excitement, high on the buzzing feeling of breaking the rules and coming together to, if for naught but a few hours, truly live; the next minute, they were kissing, Neil’s hands coming up to Todd’s face to cup his cheeks as Todd’s gripped onto his shoulders, his sweater, his clothes bunched up in his sweaty fists as they tried not to make too much noise whilst they breathed each other in, over and over.

Neil’s hands had come down to Todd’s sweater, pushing it up and off in as little time as he could spare before going back to the elaborate task of unraveling Todd’s soul with his lips and tongue and wandering hands. Todd had put his arms around Neil’s neck, pulling him down over himself, lying with their legs tangled together because there’s really only space for one in these narrow beds, trying to keep up with Neil, trying to stay conscious because there was still a part of him that did not believe this was happening.

Neil’s hands had come out from under Todd’s shirt to undo the buttons frantically, almost ripping at them, Todd lifting himself off the bed a bit to let him pull his clothes off, grinding his hips against Neil’s as they both pulled away to breathe. Todd had stared at Neil’s collarbone, at his jaw, and decided to go ahead, because fuck it, tonight is theirs for the taking. Neil had let out the tiniest gasp when he felt Todd’s lips on his jaw, down his neck, hesitant and chaste, peppered quickly in true Todd Anderson fashion. Neil had taken Todd’s face in his hands and had kissed him long and hard, trying to press his thoughts into Todd’s mind with his mouth and without speaking, _I love you, I love you, you deserve the world._

When they had pulled away again, Neil took his sweater off, flinging it onto his bed, or somewhere in their dark room, racing to take his own shirt off as Todd sat up a bit more and pressed more shy kisses to his neck, to the crook of his shoulder, to his ear and the space beneath it. Their chests had pressed together, pale and flushed in the moonlight, and then they were kissing again, Neil straddling Todd’s hips and grinding down, swallowing the blonde boy’s breathy whimpers.

Then Todd had leaned back once more, and Neil’s hands had gone straight to his hips, holding them as he tried moving back to kiss Todd’s chest, open mouthed, trying to paint the words with his tongue. Mr Keating’s words echoed in the back of his head, _“Words dripped from our tongues like honey,”_ but now something else was dripping from his tongue, not only words but thoughts and feelings he tried to say, tried to convey with every look and touch and inch of skin he tasted; _“Gods were created,”_ but now Neil knew only one God, one deity, the boy squirming beneath him, blonde and breathless and beautiful; one place of worship, this bed, this moment, the threadbare sheets on which they lay and the mattress that creaked far too much; one religion, this act, this sacred moment lost in time unbeknownst by everybody but them, this space of a few hours in which the motto Carpe Diem is finally truly applied.

The brunette’s fingers had deftly reached for the other boy’s belt buckle, undoing it as he panted, both of them wincing when they heard the belt buckle clang on the floor. Todd had then sat up once more to undo Neil’s belt and trousers, shyly looking away from Neil’s face and blushing when he finally got them down. Neil had cupped a hand under Todd’s head and pulled him up to his knees before kissing him again, soft, sweet, over and over again until Todd’s head was spinning.

They had wound up with their underwear off as well, somewhere on the floor, cocks rutting against each other’s as they wrote poetry with their constant gasping and quiet moaning.

Then Neil had pulled away, going over to his bed and getting something from under it, a small tube. “Charlie gave this to me some time ago,” Neil had whispered breathily as he clambered back over Todd. “Do you -” his voice had cut off, over come, unbelieving of what he was proposing. “Do you really want to?”

Todd had stared at him for what seemed like the longest time before leaning into Neil, grasping him by the shoulders and putting his lips under his ear. Todd had struggled to get the words out, as they usually got lodged in his throat and stayed there, trapped inside himself, quietly, almost unnoticeably despairing him to no end. But not tonight. Tonight, he lived. “Carpe Diem,” he’d said, murmured under his breath, blood rushing to his cheeks, the most daring two words he had ever said.

Neil had smiled at him with that grin of his that lit up the world, and it was just for him, just for Todd, a smile like none other gifted to Todd Anderson, the most valuable thing he had ever received.

And now we’re back to where we started, back to how they ended, Todd sinking down on Neil, gasping and trying very hard not to scream, the one thing he actually _wants_ to lodge in his throat. Neil stares in awe, hands gripping at Todd’s hips so hard they’ll bruise, sweat beading down his forehead as he thanks the gods, thanks the world for this opportunity, for the opportunity to have this beautiful being he is utterly in love with around him, hands clutching at his chest for leverage. Once Todd is fully seated, Neil laughs, three-quarters air as he stares up into Todd’s eyes. The blonde tries avoiding Neil’s stare, but ultimately he can’t, and then he’s laughing along with Neil because his laugh is contagious.

“Now what?” Todd whispers, blushing head to toe, trying to accommodate his body to something it’s never done before.

“I’m not very sure,” Neil smiles, flustered. It’s not embarrassment, he just genuinely has no idea, and a few semi-drunken awkward conversations with Charlie, a virgin, do not count as experience. “Just - maybe -” and then Neil lifts Todd’s hips just the tiniest bit before pushing him down slowly, trying very hard not to thrust his own hips upwards. Todd lets out a very small cry before biting his lip, whimpering in the back of his throat.

“Did that hurt?” The boy beneath him asks, worried, but Todd shakes his head no. The blonde swallows hard, then puts pressure on his hands that currently lie on Neil’s chest and pushes up a little bit farther before coming down a little bit harder, and he bites his lip so hard it breaks the skin and he’s bleeding. The metallic tang in his mouth distracts him from the pain. It’s a good kind pain, one that burns with both pain and pleasure, a feeling he doesn’t even know how to describe. It’s not that they haven’t stretched him, because they have, first his own fingers clumsily and then Neil’s beside his own, a revelation as Todd let his head hang against the pillow, losing the rhythm with his own hand as Neil’s fingers pressed against something deep within him he didn’t know was there.

Neil holds his hips and guides his rhythm, slow, careful, a drawn out verse, a mile-long poem, a never ending story.  
The pain fades and pleasure takes its course, replacing it in full when Neil presses against the same spot inside Todd, everything else in the world falling away when Todd brokenly moans _“N - Neil, oh -”_ and the brunette leans up to rain kisses on his neck, on his shoulder, now sitting upright as the mattress creaks beneath them and Todd’s hands slide upwards to grasp at his shoulders, to press his fingers down hard and dig his blunt fingernails into the pale skin beneath, skin turning red under them, fingertips turning white above.

Todd canters his hips faster, Neil’s rocking upwards in a similar motion, falling into a choppy yet perfect tempo, a beautiful mess, an organised chaos, the beat one naturally falls into when reading poetry, natural, a mystery, something innate that lays dormant until woken, like a spring that flowers on its own, bursting to life, bringing everything else with it.

“Todd, you’re amazing,” Neil whispers, kissing down his neck, fingers growing tighter. “You’re so beautiful, perfect -” a groan when Todd tightens around him, shaken with pleasure to the core when he hears the poetry falling from Neil’s lips, no rhyme nor rhythm nor structure, just words spoken from the bottom of his heart, the purest form of poetry, not honey, not gold, nectar of the Gods. _“- I love you,”_

Todd cries out, though he tried as hard as he could not to, but he’s overwhelmed and shaking and then he spills onto their chests, untouched and whirring like a live wire, incapable of organised, logical thought, instinct overriding his brain. He slumps forward, head resting on Neil’s shoulder, letting the other boy still his hips as he pushes his own faster, harder, trying to achieve completion as he comes inside him messily with a choked cry and a groan of Todd’s name, a litany of swears and unholy oaths muffled against the blonde’s shoulder.

They still. The moment has not passed, it has just calmed, not yet at a stand-still.

They both lie on Todd’s bed, back to chest, Neil still kissing the back of Todd’s neck and the top of his head.

Then, a whisper in the dark. “Me too.”

Neil smiles against Todd’s skin and pulls the boy closer, carding his fingers through his hair as they fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> the next morning, they're greeted by whistling and cheering and incessant teasing (mostly on Charlie's part) , and while they both turn beet red, their pinkies lock and that's enough reassurance for them.


End file.
